


lifelink

by surfacage



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surfacage/pseuds/surfacage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the massacre doesn't happen, but the collective insanity of the Uchiha may have gone somewhere else, probably into the nearest, Mangekyo-eyed object. Which, conveniently, is Shisui. Itachi isn't very impressed. Itachi/Shisui, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lifelink

**Author's Note:**

> This is very unrepentantly self-indulgent AU. Because of things like me throwing myself headfirst into the lava pool of Uchiha fandom.

 

  
_Do not fall in love with people like me_  
_we will take you to_  
_museums and parks_  
_and monuments_  
_and kiss you in every beautiful_  
_place so that you can_  
_never go back to them_  
_without tasting us_  
_like blood in your mouth._

Caitlyn Siehl

\---

For all the comparisons people make between him (stoic, stubborn, no social skills whatsoever), and Shisui (gregarious, laid-back, can probably sweet-talk even Utatane into a date (not that he ever will)), they're mostly the same. They're prodigies who have the hardest time fitting in with everyone else, only that Shisui is better at pretending to be one of them. Itachi realises this because, when he makes ANBU captain at the tender age of 13, Shisui has a large grin on the entire celebratory night in the Uchiha compound. It has too many teeth, and when their eyes meet, Shisui makes this odd aborted expression over some other Uchiha cousin's shoulder, like he's been caught staring. He winks a moment too late.

Six months later, when the two of them are pushing their way out of the Hokage's office after a verbal lashing from the elders, Shisui stretches his arms above his head and moans about the unfairness of it all. Itachi remains silent. The mission dictated a salt-and-burn kill order, no trace left, but Itachi insisted on bringing the pair of enemy nin back alive, instead. It's resulted in severe enough injuries that Itachi is ordered two weeks off missions.

"It's always like this," Shisui complains, good-naturedly, a step ahead of Itachi. "I should have drowned you when you were like, _five_ , you're really bad for my blood pressure."

Itachi says nothing. The same grimace-smile is back on Shisui's face, and for the first time in a long time, Itachi is taken aback when he realises: Shisui meant it.

 

\---

 

Shisui is only three years older than him. Intellectually, Itachi is aware of this, but sometimes it's really hard to reconcile this fact and the spectacularly embarrassing way that Shisui makes a fool of himself sometimes. Itachi's particularly interested in this topic, because usually, on his escapades, he has Itachi not just in tow, but in his cheerily insane clutches.

"I'm underage," Itachi says, for the fifth time this evening, to the eighth chuunin who had tried, unsuccessfully, to buy him a drink.

"He's like. Five," Shisui supplies helpfully, from where he's plastered his face into the cold stone of the bar. Itachi automatically fists a hand in Shisui's hair to lift his head, turn his face away from the counter, and hopefully prevent his cousin from dying of asphyxiation. If Shisui died like that, on his eighteenth birthday, he'd probably come back and haunt Itachi just to spite him. Itachi would know, because Shisui had told him so, earlier, very loudly. Several times.

Itachi stares at the chuunin, who mercifully takes the hint, and skitters away.

"'tachiiii," Shisui whines. "Drink something."

"I'm underage," Itachi repeats, patiently, like he's talking to a small child. It feels like he's been taking care of a small child, too,  as Shisui seems to have regressed to toddlerhood with the amount he's spent attached to Itachi. Itachi doesn't really understand why Shisui's chosen to get inordinately drunk with him instead of his police squad, seeing that Itachi doesn't meet the primary requirement of being a drinking partner, _namely_ , being a partner who drinks, but Itachi's sort of used to Shisui's convoluted reasoning anyway.

"You've killed people with a dish towel," Shisui points out. "Pretty sure that means you can indulge in other dangerous hobbies."

Itachi opens his mouth to say, _drinking is not a hobby_ , but then he is suddenly aware of two things at the same time: his fingers are carding through Shisui's hair of their own volition, and Shisui's staring at him. Or more importantly, his mouth.

"Haven't you had enough," Itachi says, instead, ears warming and feeling slightly dizzy, even if he's stayed astonishingly sober in this den of iniquity and judgment-impaired nin. There's a fifty-fifty chance that Shisui is drunk, or just fucking with him, because if Shisui spends five more minutes looking at Itachi like that, Itachi is going to spontaneously combust.

"Nah," Shisui waves a hand impotently, and he doesn't move to dislodge Itachi's hand. He grins, and Itachi's a hundred and ten percent sure Shisui's fucking with him, because it's that particular fangy grin that Shisui knows Itachi is helpless against. The asshole. "C'mon. I know you want to celebrate my awesome, little cousin."

Itachi deliberately fists his hand at the nape of Shisui's neck hard enough to make Shisui wince, before taking the shotglass and downing it with a grimace. Shisui only lifts his head and flashes his teeth victoriously.

(In the morning, Itachi very charitably does not nag at Shisui as the latter spends a very loud hour alternating between throwing up and bemoaning the unfairness of life, but this is only because he can't get up, on account of the room spinning whenever he moves his head, like a badly-placed genjutsu.)

 

\---

 

He'd always known that Sasuke, sooner or later, would hit puberty. He'd accordingly braced himself for the throes of angsty, hormone-driven teenagerdom, as Sasuke, as far as he knew, was a normal, if not slightly resentful child, as opposed to Itachi, who people liked to describe as 'eccentric', 'plank-faced', 'fucking terrifying', and on memorable occasions, 'small and psychopathic'.

He didn't expect, however, Sasuke like this: silhouetted against the blazing red of a raging fire painted against the night sky, black flames licking up the side of his still baby-fat cheeks. It looks like Amaterasu from a distance.

"Sa-" Itachi falters, unable to arm himself with anything other than words. It's cost him a third of the Uchiha compound, the northwest wall of Konoha, and, very nearly, the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. 

"Brother," Sasuke hisses, sharp-edged and _hurt_ , so hurt, and it slaps Itachi across the face. 

He remembers, suddenly: his brother, small, adoring, _teach me shurikenjutsu, nii-san_ ; his brother, newly-minted genin, a tuft of dark hair only seen through open shoji doors, asleep; his brother, looking at Itachi helplessly, reaching, and Itachi poking him in the forehead: _next time, Sasuke_.

He'd been so busy. Father had had his hands full trying to quell his clansmen - there'd been tentative peace, and then Itachi's name had been entered into the Hokage lottery, which then placed the mantle of Uchiha heir squarely on Sasuke's shoulders. Itachi might have loved his little brother, in an all-encompassing sort of way, but this is the moment he realises that he doesn't know Sasuke at all.

Sasuke rails at him about the clan and Konoha and in a heart-stopping moment, about Danzo, and Itachi needs to shut him up, needs to prevent the traitorous words from flying out like freed birds, far-reaching, when Shisui gets there first with both eyes bleeding and the luminous green of his Susanoo cleaving through the flames.

"You're useless," Shisui sniffs at Itachi, unceremoniously dumping his little brother into his arms.

Itachi gapes up at him, then at the fire, then at the gradual roar of chakra from Konoha nin scrambling for damage control. Sasuke hadn't been quiet about this at all. He can hear his mother yelling out their name, her chakra wild and worried and Itachi had never, ever wanted her to feel like this, ever-

"Also, stop worrying," his cousin continues, irises gleaming even as the Sandaime's formidable chakra makes its appearance, "It was a couple of missing-nin. Too bad, huh."

Shisui's smile looks like something carved out of his nightmares, and the bastard has the audacity to wink, like he hadn't considered the moral ramifications of rewriting the memories of three hundred people. He's still staring at Shisui when someone tries to wrench Sasuke away from him; he automatically activates his Sharingan, in time to look up at the white-pale face of his father.

"My sons," is the first thing his father says, a hand on Sasuke's forehead, and the other one moving and cradling Itachi's jaw. Fugaku's expression - pure, unadulterated relief, directed at this unconscious younger son - makes Itachi's eyes fracture with tears. Maybe this is what being a child feels like.

There's some yelling, a blur of bodies, Itachi finally releasing Sasuke as Shisui herds him away into a patch of blurry medic-nin. He vaguely hears Shisui murmuring that Sasuke will be fine, they're taking him to the hospital, Shisui just blocked his tenketsu points for a bit; the little fox won't remember much if at all, and really, Itachi, you're not the worst brother in the history of ever, but I didn't use _it_ on him, so you're gonna have to deal with his skinny little ass - 

"You - you - " There aren't any words to shape the worry beating nauseous in his throat. Itachi scrabbles for Shisui's hands, just to keep his own from shaking uncontrollably. "You, Shisui, if- why - your - "

"Are you broken?" Shisui quips, looking not at all discomfited that Itachi is most likely having a nervous breakdown in front of him. If anything, he's grinning, and his hands are warm and steady, fingers wound tightly with Itachi's.

"You're not supposed to use your - _against Konoha_ ," Itachi can't comprehend this, can't put the situation together, how can anyone think he's fit for Hokage, "Shisui, why - "

"What?" Shisui looks at him, brow furrowed, like he's honestly confused why Itachi's asking him this. Itachi's afraid he actually is. "Sasuke's important to you, so he's important to me too."

When a warm feeling unexpectedly suffuses his chest, this is when Itachi realises: he loves Shisui. He doesn't know if it's more of the deep-seated devotion that Sasuke commands, or more of the familiar affection that is between childhood friends, or if it's more of the sharp, piercing urge to stripe Shisui open and learn what makes him tick, but he knows, unequivocally: it's love, and it's terrifying.

 

\---

 

Itachi's the one that kisses him first. It's sort of embarrassing.

"Did you just really kiss me on the forehead," Shisui says, disbelievingly, "And on my _forehead protector_."

Itachi can feel his ears heat up, but he ignores it doggedly, forcing himself to look Shisui in the face, cradling Shisui's jaw with trembling hands. This should really be easier than, say, fighting Kiri nin eight-to-one with a broken ankle, but having experienced both this (a couple of seconds ago) and that (a couple of minutes ago) firsthand, he can say no, it's not. Shisui's eyes are round and maybe a bit glassy. He's breathing hard. Maybe Itachi is holding him too tight, clutching Shisui to his chest like this, but he'd thought Shisui died taking a hit for Itachi, and Itachi's feeling a bit justified in maybe going a little overboard. He hasn't gone overboard much in eighteen years. He just maybe practically ran to Shisui's side, heart beating in his throat, fingers shaking to his pulse, maybe he gathered his best friend in his arms and hugged the living shit out of him for being _alive alive alive_. 

Then Shisui opens his mouth again. "I can't believe you, that's not even romantic." 

Itachi just stares at him, feeling the blush spread down his neck, following the trails of dried nin blood. Mortifyingly, Shisui keeps talking. "You're supposed to like," one of Shisui's hands rest on the small of his back, and Shisui gestures with the other, as if he could convey his proper indignation at the situation with it, "Wait, I'm supposed to do that. Stop being first at everything."

Shisui's mouth is working, like he's fighting a smile and failing miserably. There's a smudge of gore on his cheek, blood spatter, and the urge to lick it off is getting worrisome. And then what Shisui says actually sinks in, and Itachi doesn't try to fight the happy grin at all. Shisui's eyes go round again, and he mutters something that sounds like 'fuck it' before pulling Itachi down for a proper, romantic kiss.

("Well," Shisui says, when Itachi wakes up in the hospital, because he'd fainted right after Shisui licked his mouth open, "Getting the Mangekyo because you thought I died  _is_  sort of romantic.")

 

\---

 

On the day he is inaugurated the Godaime Hokage of Konohagakure, he's surprised to find Sasuke is in the village, permitted a break by the Snake Sannin. He'd automatically looked for his little brother in the crowd, even though he knows Sasuke has been taken on a long-term apprenticeship by Orochimaru, and he actually finds Sasuke: looking a little taller and filled out, face leaner, but the joy that lights his face at meeting Itachi's eyes is all nostalgia.

Itachi's swept away into a flurry of dignitaries and congratulations and what looks to be a very promising festival before he can come over and greet Sasuke properly, but Shisui 'comes to the rescue' as always, and at around nine fifty-three in the evening, it's just him and his little brother and Shisui in one of the receiving offices. 

"Should," Sasuke starts, nose wrinkling in Shisui's direction like he's smelling something particularly offensive, "Should I ask what you bribed nii-san's ANBU guard with?"

Shisui beams proudly at Sasuke. "Look at you. All grown up and morally bankrupt."

"You're gonna get what's coming to you," Sasuke sulks, and then he turns his glare on Itachi. Itachi smiles, heart so full that it feels like it's going to burst. "And you! You and -" His younger brother makes a very rude hand gesture that he's definitely learned somehow from Naruto, "You and _him_! You never said anything in your letters!"

Itachi doesn't say anything, he just walks up to Sasuke and folds his little brother into his arms, pressing a kiss to Sasuke's forehead. It's odd, because he remembers being able to kiss the crown of Sasuke's head, but then again, it's been years. "Little brother."

Sasuke makes an odd choked noise into Itachi's shoulder, but he doesn't squirm free, instead leaning his weight slightly into Itachi. Whatever Orochimaru's been beating into Sasuke's head must be really something. "You're so embarrassing, aniki."

"I don't think he needs to worry about shame in front of me, squirt." Shisui, of course, has to ruin the moment, and Itachi can feel Sasuke start to make hand seals around the small of his back, so Itachi takes the prudent course of action and sends Shisui a disapproving glare. After around a decade and a half of friendship, it's not very effective, but when Sasuke hides a snort into his Hokage robes, Itachi thinks that it might still have a use after all.

 

\---

 

All right, so waking up in Shisui's bed isn't something foreign to Itachi. In fact, he feels like he's waken up more times in Shisui's bed (mission, training, hiding, studying) more than out of it, so that might be saying something about the two of them. Itachi tries very carefully not to think about what that is.

Waking up half-naked in it isn't foreign, either. Shisui has a way of bullying Itachi into actually treating his mission injuries instead of sleeping them off or letting them heal on their own, so he wakes up more than once with clean bandages and clean sleeping pants on clean, Shisui-scented sheets. 

Waking up naked and tangled with said best friend, however, is still a new and decidedly baffling experience. Itachi toes Shisui's shin experimentally, and Shisui grumbles into Itachi's hair, but he doesn't wake up. It's a little daunting that Shisui trusts him enough that he doesn't immediately snap into awareness from being touched while asleep. Actually, it's usually that Itachi can't even enter a room without Shisui knowing he's there, so this is a novel thing. Itachi drags his toes up Shisui's leg, and, feeling sort of woozy, hikes his own leg up to rest against Shisui's thigh. Shisui twitches, and Itachi watches him open his eyes; they do that weird thing where they focus on Itachi instantly.

"What time issit," Shisui demands of Itachi's forehead.

Itachi squints at Shisui's bedroom window, hindered by Shisui's attempt to be a human pretzel around him. Judging from the lightening of the horizon, combined with this time of the year, "Around five in the morning."

"Your feet are really fucking cold," Shisui rasps, voice rough with sleep.

"You'll have to deal with it," Itachi informs him, gravely, smiling into Shisui's collarbone and closing his eyes.

 

\---

 

Contrary to popular belief, while Itachi's anger runs cold, Shisui's anger runs colder, straight into bitterness: as bitter as the wind that chills the Nakano River in winter.

"Why are you like this," Shisui whispers, a vague, colorless shape of misery against the setting sun at the hospital window, cut into ribbons by the dying light, "We talked about this, Itachi."

Itachi doesn't say anything. He looks up, instead, at the ceiling, at the cracks in the plaster. He's fairly sure he has cracked all of his ribs, a punctured lung, a shattered femur - Sasuke had been thorough. Orochimaru had taught him well. He can't quite separate the ache of despair underneath his breastbone from his other injuries. He wishes Shisui would be louder, wishes Shisui would pick up his mask again and wear it, because the sound and sight of Shisui like this makes Itachi want to throw up.

"Why didn't you ask me for help?" Shisui's voice breaks on the last syllable and Itachi can infer from his body language that he came as close as he could to death. Sasuke's grown so much. "I'd do anything for you."

  
_That's what I'm afraid of_ , Itachi thinks, turning his head jerkily, lifting a bandaged hand; Shisui catches it and holds it against his own. He feels warm.

"I'm yours," Shisui murmurs, continuing, and Itachi's heart clenches when the word tapers off into a hiss. The killing intent in the room rises, Shisui's chakra roiling like an angry lion in a cage. "And you're- _fuck_ , Itachi, it's not fair-"

He flexes his fingers experimentally, lifting it again to touch Shisui's face, his cheek, the side of an eye. Shisui's eyes are Mangekyo red. He wishes Shisui would say something that make all of it, the entire affair better; something that would rewind time and stop Sasuke from- 

"Life isn't fair," he says, finally, fisting his hand in Shisui's hair, dragging his face down, pressing the answer to Shisui's lips; Shisui's eyes widen, and Itachi feels like he's finally on the winning side of their little game.

They break one of Itachi's ribs again, but he breaks one of Shisui's arms, too, so that's fine. The entire corridor of the hospital is unusable for days afterwards.

 

\---

 

"What the _fuck?_ " Naruto rages, hands trembling and white-knuckled on the Hokage hat. Itachi had pressed it into his hands thirty minutes ago with a sad, sickly little smile, and Naruto hates him for it. "You let him go, just like that? _Really_? What the fuck kind of ninja are you?! What the fuck kind of _person_  are you! Itachi's your _friend_ , your _best friend,_ you can't just let him- I'll take you down, Shisui, you know I can, Sharingan or not you won't keep me in this tower- "

Shisui palms a hand over his eyes, drags it down to his mouth, looking like _he's_ the one going to die in a fucking deathmatch with his fucking brother and really, Naruto is being very generous by not flaying the flesh off Shisui's bones right now. Hokages can't murder their own nin. It doesn't make Naruto want to mangle Shisui any less. Right now, Itachi is walking to his death in a bid to bring his little brother home, and they're wasting precious seconds standing in the Hokage's office.

"Let me ask you something," Shisui says, calmly, walking up to the desk and placing his palms on it, leaning in. "Tell me, how far are you willing to go for Sasuke?"

Naruto feels like he's been sucker-punched. "I- what?" He hisses, rage giving way to something much more painful, a volatile mix of faith and desperation and anger that leaves his insides scraped raw. "You know- you know that I-"

"You know what it's like, then. Whatever you feel for him, whatever I feel for Itachi," Shisui says, dipping his head closer and tilting Naruto's chin up so they're looking straight at each other, "It's nothing compared to what Itachi will do for Sasuke. _Nothing_."

"But you love-"

Shisui smiles then, slow and wide and devastated, and Naruto knows what madness looks like.

 

\---

 

"Can I remind you," Shisui says, from the foot of the hospital bed, "That your little brother is absolutely fucking insane?"

Itachi rotates the ankle Shisui's holding, relishing in how the circle of Shisui's fingers feels like a manacle. He doesn't reply, content, instead, with watching Shisui. There were a couple of times (basically the entire damn night) where he'd thought he'd never see Shisui again, so he decides that he can be forgiven for staring unrepentantly at the side of his lover's face.

"You know what he tried to do, right?" Shisui talks like holding a conversation with someone who just woke up from a three-week coma a day ago is a productive experience. "Orochimaru goaded him into it. He killed... _Look_ , he- he wants to change the village structure, he wants the clans to get rid of insularity, he wants the jinchuuriki system abolished. He wants to talk to the Daimyo. He even wants to call the next Kage council, and he's not even the fucking Hokage. You've infected him."

Itachi knows this. Or remembers it, bits and pieces, his brother clutching at his face with blood-slick hands, stroking at his cheeks, his eyelids,  _I will change this world for you, big brother,_ and then he remembers, the tempestuous storm of the Kyuubi's chakra, and then, nothing.

"You have infected him too," he manages to point out, voice dry and grating, and Shisui moves up the bed to poke an ice chip mercilessly between Itachi's chapped lips. 

Shisui doesn't say, _in the way that we will both rather clip your wings than let you keep doing this to yourself, but where Sasuke will let you live, I wouldn't._ He doesn't need to. The rigid set of Shisui's shoulders, the way he keeps a possessive hand on Itachi's bandaged hip, the way his eyes are still Uchiha-black but somehow more dangerous than Mangekyo-red, they say enough.

The silence between them is rife with unspoken things: how Sasuke nearly killed him before Itachi fought back seriously, how Naruto nearly killed Sasuke, how Shisui raged and paced within Konoha's walls because he promised Itachi, _I will not follow you._  Shisui moves to stand up, and Itachi nearly breaks something reaching for him, clutching at Shisui's hand.

"You're angry."

Shisui gives him a disbelieving look, like he can't understand how Itachi can say such a colossal understatement.

"I'm not doing this right now," Shisui says, tightly, turning his palm so he can lace his fingers with Itachi's. "You need to rest."

"Shisui-"

"Itachi, please." Shisui then lets go, and Itachi doesn't reach out again, because the tone of Shisui's voice leaves him paralyzed. _Hurt_ , like Itachi had taken him apart, and he couldn't quite figure out how to put himself back together, because all the pieces were jagged now and didn't fit back properly. "I understand, you know. I've always known it."

Shisui smiles at him, small and sad, and it looks so out of place, like the setting sun, resignation, a goodbye. "If I'm not worth living for, then, at least, live for your brother."

 

\---

 

_("Why are you letting me do this?!"_

_Itachi coughs up what feels like half a lung. Doesn't look too far from it either. He looks back up at Sasuke, across the valley, pressing a hand to his ribs. His hands are already warm-wet with blood._

_"That's what older brothers do, right?" He tries for a teasing tone, but from the look on Sasuke's face, it falls short._

_"What about-" Sasuke looks desperate now, like all his plans had gone awry, like he hadn't expected Itachi to actually say yes to his demand and come alone. "What about Shisui?"_

_His face must have done something, because Sasuke's expression shifts, like he's found a spiderthin crack in the icy facade he can jam his katana into and widen into a canyon. "You'd do this to him," he says, awed. "You'd actually do this to him. I thought you lo- ")_

 

\---

 

Itachi vaguely registers the grate of bone against still-broken bone when he crashes to the floor, but it doesn't matter; what matters is that he has Shisui's wrists in his bandaged fingers as Shisui moves his hands to tiger, to Shunshin. Shisui's mouth falls open in an 'o' of surprise, eyebrows lowering down as the surprise morphs into concern and Itachi can't do anything else but clutch at his jounin blacks and kiss him.

"Don't, don't," he says, with the desperation of a dying man, when Shisui doesn't respond, arms frozen around Itachi. "Don't say that. I'm sorry, Shisui, I didn't - I didn't see it before, Sasuke, he - "

( _"Do you know what's it like, Itachi, to love someone with everything you have, knowing that someday, you'll just have to let them go?"_

_Sasuke knows Itachi knows this, and that's why Sasuke knows it will hurt._ )

"I'm sorry - " Shisui isn't moving, isn't saying anything. Itachi muffles a desperate sob against Shisui's collar, hurting and aching and feeling like he's probably destroyed everything good he's ever held close to his chasm of a selfish heart. Shisui had always been there, a constant presence, comforting and familiar, and Itachi had taken him for granted. By all rights he should just let Shisui leave, should let Shisui start healing from the raw and constant pain Itachi's inflicted him over the past two decades, but because Itachi doesn't do things by halves, he's going to continue being a massive fuckup and go for broke.

"Shisui, please," he begs, words he'd never shaped into being overflowing in a flood of agony, "I need you. Don't leave me, _please_  - "

Shisui smothers the plea with his mouth and pushes it right back into Itachi's. "Fuck, you fucking asshole, you're going to be the death of me," and Shisui's arms are tightening around him, and Itachi's ribs creak dangerously, and Itachi doesn't know who's pressing feverish kisses against whom or what but he does vaguely realise that the chasm is closing, the shape familiar, because it's the space Shisui's filled all his life.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Itachi chants, and when Shisui smiles up at him with a bewildered, childlike joy, Itachi has to kiss him again.

 

\---

 

"You did not."

Naruto looks befuddled, hand frozen around the orange juice, like he doesn't know the scale of the damage he'd wrought. "He really wanted to."

Sasuke palms a hand over his face and prays for patience. 

"Okay, which of you little shits let Itachi into the kitchen?"

Sasuke feels whatever little patience that he'd gathered from the cosmos evaporate. He looks over his hand at Shisui, who has a haunted look on his face. He's probably seen the pancakes. "Naruto...doesn't know."

"That's literally the first Uchiha law," Shisui argues, from where he's morosely looking in the cabinets for probably cereal. Or something. Anything is better at this point. "Never let Itachi in the kitchen. He burns water, for fuck's sake."

"That was _one time_ , Shisui!"

Said Uchiha comes out of the kitchen, holding something that Sasuke supposes might be some kind of soup. Or jelly. He can't tell, and he's better off not knowing. He shrugs into his jounin vest, picks up Naruto's vest from where it's slung haphazardly on the back of the couch, and chucks it at the blond. He automatically catches the forehead protector Naruto flings his way, and ties it on.

"Did you take your vitamins yet," Itachi tells him, rather than asking, and Sasuke glares at Itachi, on principle.

"Yeah, 'cause if you don't, you'll forever be a shrimp, baby Uchiha," Shisui adds helpfully, from where he's parked at the sink. He's eating cereal - _his_ cereal, Sasuke notes with no small amount of barely-concealed rage - directly out of the box. What a traitor.

Naruto doesn't bother to hide the snort. Sasuke pins him with a glare, too, is there nobody on his side in his own fucking apartment? Really, what kind of - "You're actually eating that?"

"What?" Naruto looks up from what looks like the diplomatic request to hold the chuunin exams in Suna, pinned into place by a bowl of the primordal goop Itachi had procured. When the blond idiot spoons it up, it looks like it jiggles, and Sasuke opens his mouth in warning just as Naruto shoves it into his own.

Silence blankets the room.

And then Naruto chews loudly. What he's chewing, Sasuke has no idea. "It's pretty good."

Sasuke's about to tell him that he doesn't need to compliment Itachi's cooking, since Itachi is clearly on Konoha's side, being the Uchiha clan head and all, but comprehension dawns on him and he realises Naruto _actually_ likes it.

He's doomed.

"You're doomed," Shisui's cackling from the sink, and Sasuke nobly does not ram a Chidori right up his spine, since they were guests, and Sasuke had been raised by his mother to treat guests right. Itachi looks very pleased with himself, which is to say, the corners of his mouth tilt up a millimeter and a half, and Sasuke sort of wants to throw up all over the kitchen table. That wouldn't do, though, because then the Hokage robes draped on the chair against it would get stained, and with the sort of material the robes were made with, Shino would have a fit about the dry-cleaning expenses.

Sasuke walks up to the table instead, takes his robe, and trades the other one to Naruto for the orange juice, to drink his vitamins with.


End file.
